


Tales Of An Undercover Girl Friday

by mountain_born



Series: The Marvelous Tale of an Agent, an Archer, and an Assassin [23]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Doctor Who/Avengers Crossover Fusion, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-10 16:49:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3297512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mountain_born/pseuds/mountain_born
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>River Song gets sent undercover to observe and evaluate Tony Stark.  Mayhem, shenanigans, and some violence ensue.  AKA <i>Iron Man 2</i> gets the <i>Marvelous Tale</i> treatment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *lays flowers at the feet of **like-a-raven** * Thanks and kudos once again to the beta who never lets me get away with anything!
> 
> The events of this fic follow the main events of _Iron Man 2_ , with my usual tweaks here and there. And I had some fun giving walk-ons to some familiar faces from _Agents of SHIELD_. There will be four chapters in total; new chapters will go up every few days (while I work feverishly on the _Thor_ fic).
> 
> Happy reading!

_Spring 2011_  
 _Malibu, California_

Infiltration was an art, and River Song excelled at it. Whether it was an embassy ball, a terrorist-filled hole in the slums, a high-stakes private poker game among some of the world’s richest and most notorious men, or a dull corporate office full of cubicles, the cardinal rule to keep in mind was always the same: _You belong here._

Compared to some of the infiltration ops that River had been sent on, her current assignment was going to be a milk run. The danger level was almost absurdly low. Fury had put her on this job because the mark was high on SHIELD’s totem pole of assets and because, in the Director’s opinion, River stood the best chance of getting close to him.

After reading the mission brief, she had to agree with that assessment.

River guided her car around a curve on the PCH. The GPS on her dashboard was steering her along helpfully, but River didn’t need it to know where she was: 10880 Malibu Point was half a mile ahead. Ordinarily she would have deactivated the device as soon as she’d taken possession of the car. She didn’t need it. Agent River Song of SHIELD always instinctively knew where she was in Time and Space.

Rachel Singer, the new administrative assistant in the Legal department of Stark Industries’ Los Angeles office, didn’t have that particular gift, though. Rachel Singer was a type-A, conscientious go-getter and would never risk being late, getting lost, or anything else that smacked of inefficiency. She was the sort who used every means and gadget at her disposal to do her job well.

Or so River had determined when she’d sat down with her established cover and started carefully embroidering in the personal details.

River turned off the highway and started up a long, winding driveway. Beside her, on the passenger seat, lay a portfolio of documents. It hadn’t been hard to manipulate her supervisor into letting her deliver them. It was the perfect opportunity to meet her mark face-to-face without raising any suspicions.

Tony Stark was officially turning control of his company over to his successor, his long-time personal assistant, Virginia “Pepper” Potts. That meant that he was going to be in the market for a new Girl Friday, which was where Agent River Song came in.

Fury had called her in for the initial briefing two and a half weeks ago.

“With Potts taking over the company, Stark’s going to be looking for a new assistant. We want to maneuver you into that position.”

“The objective?” River had asked.

“Observation and evaluation,” Fury had replied. “Over the last several weeks, Stark’s behavior has started to become erratic.”

“From what I know about Tony Stark, _erratic_ is just his baseline personality,” River had said.

Just look at the recent Senate hearing Stark had been called to. Coulson had had a front row seat for that. Between Stark, Justin Hammer, and Senator Stern, C-SPAN had never been so interesting.

“More erratic than usual,” Fury had conceded. “That has people in high places, myself among them, concerned. Stark’s too valuable a commodity, even without that damn suit, to be allowed to just slide off the rails. I want you to get in there and evaluate him. Find out if there’s a reason for the change.”

“Yes, sir.”

It was understandable that Fury would want a psychological assessment. River knew that the Director had his eye on Stark for a new, classified crisis response team he was developing. Fury had a certain appreciation of unorthodox individuals. (River’s recruitment was proof enough of that.) But _unorthodox_ wasn’t the same as _self-destructive._

“We’re sending you to California solo,” Fury had said. “You’ll have local support from the Los Angeles office if you need it. Report to Coulson every forty-eight hours. Good luck, Agent Song.”

River pulled her mind back to the present as the drive leveled off and a sleek, modern mansion came into view. She parked in the circular courtyard, checked her reflection in the rearview mirror, and touched up her lipstick before getting out of the car and approaching the front door.

_Show time._

*****

Tony Stark had been a legend, even before he had announced his identity as Iron Man on live television. (River well remembered the look of intense heartburn that had still been on Coulson’s face when he’d returned from _that_ press conference.) His career was a matter of very public record, from child prodigy to mechanical genius to CEO of a company that had given the world some of its most advanced and deadliest technology. He was also at the forefront of artificial intelligence development.

River made a mental note that she would have to tread very carefully in Stark’s house, because JARVIS saw and heard all.

“Please wait right here, Ms. Singer,” the A.I. told River. If she closed her eyes she could easily envision a dignified English butler standing before her in the foyer. “I’ll inform Mr. Stark that you’ve arrived. Do have a seat if you wish.”

Pepper Potts herself came up to collect River.

Stark’s long-time personal assistant was, in her own way, just as legendary as her boss. That status was not unwarranted. Anyone whose sole job consisted of keep Tony Stark on a relatively straight and narrow path had to be a force to be reckoned with. 

River adopted a professional smile.

“Hello, Ms. Potts. I’m Rachel Singer from Legal. I’m here with the transfer paperwork.”

“Of course.” Potts shook her hand. “Come right this way. Mr. Stark is in the gym.”

*****

It was actually far from the first time River had been called into a fighting ring on a job interview. It was a pity she wasn’t underhandedly auditioning to be Stark’s bodyguard. River would wager that she was better qualified than Harold “Happy” Hogan. She told Clint as much when she checked in with him that evening.

“And _then_ the wanker asked me if I’d ever done any boxing,” River said, cell phone wedged under her ear as she prepared a cup of tea.

“Jesus.” River could hear Clint laughing on the other end of the call. She closed her eyes and could picture him sprawled out on his bed, feet hanging off the side because he hadn’t bothered to take his boots off. “What did you do?”

“I kicked his ass and made it look like an accident.”

“That’s my girl.”

River put the milk back into the refrigerator and carried her cup out into the living room. The apartment that SHIELD had put her up in wasn’t huge, but it was very comfortable (Rachel Singer came from money). River could see the ocean from the large picture window and hear the waves rushing up onto the beach.

It was a far and lonely cry from her quarters on the SHIELD base. Still, given some of the safe houses she’d spent time in, River appreciated that SHIELD had sprung for creature comforts in order to back up her cover.

“So, did you get the job yet?” Clint asked.

“Not yet,” River replied, curling up in the corner of the plush sofa. “But I don’t think it’ll take long. He was definitely interested.”

Her performance had been masterful, if River did say so herself. Playing Stark effectively required striking a careful balance. A shy shrinking violet wouldn’t appeal to him, but being too brazen wouldn’t pique his interest. Rachel Singer had to be attractive, smart, and above all, mysterious. All those years of hiding secrets and living lies really paid off sometimes.

“I guess the guy really is a genius after all,” Clint said.

River smiled. She was always grateful that she could count on Clint not to get weird about this part of her job. Sometimes a cover required her to flirt with or otherwise attract the attention of other men. Clint could get hot under the collar if she was treated with blatant disrespect, verbally or physically, but he knew that the _come hither_ act was just another tool to use to get a job done, and treated it accordingly.

“Coulson’s been keeping an eye on the internet package,” Clint added. “Stark’s doing his research on Rachel Singer. That’s a good sign.”

“Definitely.” 

River had sat down with Coulson to design a cover that would make her look like the perfect replacement for Pepper Potts, starting with River’s own talents and background and building from there. Rachel Singer had gone to some of New York’s finest prep schools and then abroad for university at Oxford. She was fluent in multiple languages (though not as many as River Song) and had served some impressive internships. On a lark, she’d done some modeling in Japan.

Coulson had cringed slightly when he’d brought that up, but River had waved off any awkwardness. It was an effective ploy. Stark had found those pictures online before she’d even finished handing Happy his own ass.

“So what’s he like, live and in person?” Clint asked. “Same guy we saw at the Expo on opening night?”

“More or less. Not quite that grandiose in private, but close.”

“Do you think he’s a candidate for Fury’s dream team?”

“Honestly? I’m not sure,” River said.

The dream team. Fury called it the _Avengers Initiative._

The whole thing sounded a little over-the-top to River, not to mention a risky proposition. Fury was angling to recruit people with greater-than-normal capabilities to meet extraordinary threats. It sounded logical on paper, but River thought it could just as likely backfire in the Director’s face. Just look at the potential candidates. Sure, Stark was brilliant, and his Iron Man suit made him a more than capable fighter, but the man was a poster child for psychological issues. 

The one other person she knew was on the list was a physicist named Bruce Banner. He was even more unstable than Stark. It didn’t get much more volatile than a man who transformed into an incredibly large, incredibly strong, mindless monster when he was angry or under duress. 

River only knew about Banner because Clint had spent a few weeks in Poland conducting long-range surveillance on the man. SHIELD had decided to leave Banner loose in the wild, possibly because they hadn’t figured out a decent way to contain him yet, but Fury kept close tabs on him. River hadn’t breathed easily until Clint had gotten home from that assignment.

River stretched her legs out on the sofa and watched the sun start to fall into the Pacific Ocean.

“So, tell me how things are on base,” she said.

“About the same as they were when you left. No action on the horizon for me or Coulson. We probably won’t draw a mission until you get back.”

“Well, fortunately, this shouldn’t take very long. I’ll get in, size up Stark, and get out again. I’ll be home before you know it.”


	2. Chapter 2

River made a little bet with herself that Stark would call her about the position in two days. She lost. Stark called and offered her the P.A. job only twenty-four hours after Rachel Singer had delivered the transfer papers.

There was a plus side to Stark’s spontaneous, fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants way of doing things.

River took the call in her cubicle in the Legal department after peeking around the flimsy wall to ensure that the manager was well out of earshot.

“Your resume and qualifications are extremely impressive,” Stark said. “How soon can you start?”

“Well,” River demurred, “I’ll ask my supervisor how much notice--”

“Don’t worry about giving notice. I’ll take care of that,” Stark interrupted. “So, today is good?”

River mentally awarded herself a mark in the _win_ column. “Today is excellent, Mr. Stark.”

“Good. Do you have something to take notes with?”

“Um.” River quickly grabbed a pen and a legal pad. “I do, yes.”

“Great. I have a few things you can get started on.”

*****

_A few things_ involved hopping on a plane and flying to Monaco to get the Stark party set up for the Formula One race. The race seemed to be shaping up to be a vicarious pissing match among leading tech companies. Stark Industries had a car in competition, as did the Tesla Institute, Oracle Corp, and Stark’s main wanna-be competitor, Hammer Industries.

Fortunately, keeping a go-bag packed and handy was a habit that River Song and Rachel Singer had in common. 

Stark and Potts followed two days later, arriving at the Hotel de Paris on the day of the race just in time for lunch. River had wondered whether or not Stark had informed his new CEO that the position of _Tony Stark’s Keeper_ had been filled. Going off the look on Potts’ face, the answer was _no._

River was starting to get the distinct impression that Pepper Potts really didn’t like Rachel Singer. Whether it was a personal dislike or if Potts just saw her presence as a tangible extension of Stark’s raging impulsiveness, River couldn’t say.

Still, Potts handled it with grace and River returned the favor by remaining as unobtrusive as possible. Rachel Singer went about her job with unruffled, quiet competence. She conferred with the hotel’s _maitre d’_ about lunch. The man was quite eager to be accommodating. (The ability to speak flawless French had its advantages.) She diplomatically deflected two reporters, made half a dozen adjustments to Stark’s schedule, and refrained from snapping Justin Hammer’s neck when he patted her ass as she walked past him.

River kept half an eye on the other members of her party. Happy had gone to park the car. Potts was at their lunch table. At one point, River saw Stark excuse himself and head for the men’s room. She had just noted that he had been gone a long time when a buzz started to go though the dining room and attention turned to the television mounted over the bar.

_“Well, I say what’s the point of having a race car if you never drive it?”_

River actually gaped for a moment.

_Stark, Potts is going to kill you._

The day quickly plummeted south from there.

Stark might or might not be hell bent on killing himself. So far, that was unclear to River. Jumping into a race car on a wild impulse definitely spoke of recklessness, but not necessarily suicidal tendencies. But before Stark had even completed a single lap of the race, one thing became certain. 

_Someone_ out there wanted him dead.

*****

“Have we been able to get an ID on the guy yet?” River asked.

She was in her small cabin on Stark’s private plane. At her last check, Potts had been sitting up in the main passenger cabin reading and Stark had been in the galley concocting God-alone-knew-what. River had been doing her best to stay out of their way on the flight back to L.A. 

Happy was the only other passenger on this flight and he was asleep if the snores River had heard when she’d stopped to listen outside his door were any indication. River was taking advantage of the relative privacy to check in with home base.

“His name is Ivan Vanko,” Coulson replied. River had the video interface pulled up on her tablet, and she saw Coulson flip through a file by his keyboard. “We don’t have much on him, yet. He’s a Russian national. He has some background in engineering and physics, but we can’t find much of an employment trail yet. He’s served prison time before, but the records are incomplete. We suspect ties to organized crime, but we can’t be sure yet.”

“Hired gun?” River asked. 

“Possibly,” Coulson said. “We’re working on getting him and what’s left of his equipment turned over to SHIELD. It’s probably the best way we’re going to get answers.”

River nodded. “I wasn’t prepared for a direct attack on Stark, Coulson.”

 _Observe and evaluate Tony Stark._ Those had been her orders on this assignment. She hadn’t been sent in on a protection detail. SHIELD agents were expected to rapidly adapt to changing parameters, but River still felt like she’d been caught with her knickers down in Monaco. She hadn’t been able to respond at all. For one thing, a man wearing giant electrified bullwhips was nothing that she could have fought alone and without weapons. For another, Rachel Singer would never have gone rushing out to the race track to try to save the day. River had been stuck watching the mess unfold on the television like everyone else.

Fortunately, Iron Man had been able to get his shit together in time to contain the situation.

“Hey.” Coulson turned his full attention back to the screen. “No one saw that coming. You did the right thing. You maintained your cover.”

River nodded. She’d still be on alert from here on in.

“Speaking of observations, any insights on Stark yet?” Coulson asked.

“He’s becoming increasingly erratic in public, as you’ve seen. He’s seriously dialed down when he thinks no one’s watching, though,” River said. 

“Dialed down in what sense?”

“He’s quieter,” River said. “Preoccupied. I might even go so far as to say that he’s acting depressed.”

“Which could possibly point to drug use or a chemical imbalance,” Coulson said, nodding. “Did you get the sample?”

“Right before I called you.” 

River held up the small vial of blood. Getting it had been relatively easy. River had palmed the vial with attached lancet and gone to the galley under the guise of getting a bottle of juice. Stark had been chopping vegetables at the counter, conveniently half-blocking the path to the refrigerator. All River had had to do was press her hand against his back on her way past, pretending to lose her balance slightly.

Stark had jerked and, at River’s wide-eyed innocent look, rolled his shoulders and mumbled something about “muscle spasms.” He’d made a half-hearted flirtatious remark then gone back to his cooking.

“Good,” Coulson said. “I’ll call May at the L.A. office and arrange for you to hand it off to her for analysis. Will you have some time to get away when you get back?”

“I’m supposed to have a day off, but I wouldn’t count on being able to take the whole thing,” River said. “The media is blowing up over Stark and Monaco. I wouldn’t be surprised if I get called in to help deal with it, but I can probably manage lunch.”

“I’ll set it up. Keep us apprised. And River? Be careful.”

“I always am.”

*****

Malibu had no shortage of ladies who lunched, which made for a handy and not unpleasant cover for River to meet with her Los Angeles contacts. River Song, Melinda May, and Bobbi Morse were some of SHIELD’s most formidable agents, but outfit them in colorful sundresses and they didn’t stand out at all from the rest of the lunch parties crowding into _Chez Delphine._

Handing off Tony Stark’s blood sample took a grand total of two seconds. May tucked it into her purse to take back to the Los Angeles SHIELD lab for analysis. The rest of the time could be spent just as friends getting together to catch up.

This kind of thing had been normal for River at one time, but it had been a _long_ time ago. River didn’t think she’d had proper girlfriends since sometime in the 1950s. Six years ago, when she’d reluctantly joined SHIELD, making friends of any sort hadn’t even had a slot on her priority list. 

Clint had managed to sneak under her guard during that first year and Coulson had followed not long after. River had told herself that that was okay because they were working closely together. Friendship in that case was practical. Underneath that was the simple fact that it had felt good not to be alone anymore. It had been good to be able to have friends again. Her circle had remained limited to Clint and Coulson for quite some time, though. Even after River had started to be more accepted at SHIELD, the secrets she’d been keeping about her past and her nature made her standoffish.

Then the Doctor had come to call, and River had finally let Clint and Coulson see who and what she really was. It had been one of the most terrifying moments of her life. The relief River had experienced when her two best friends had stood by her had apparently had some ripple effects. She’d started allowing a few walls to come down after that. River’s social circle would probably never be extensive, but she’d made more friends, Melinda and Bobbi among them.

“So. What’s it like working for Stark?” Bobbi asked after the waiter had brought their drinks. 

“Like working in a three-ring circus, only with slightly less structure,” River said, squeezing lemon into her tea. “I’m not sure how Potts managed to do it for so many years.”

“It’s probably not unlike working for Fury,” May said. “You build up an immunity after a while.”

“Probably,” River said. “I don’t plan on being there long enough to find out.”

“I thought you were one of those crazy people who likes undercover,” May said.

“Undercover is one thing. Keeping a crazy billionaire from killing himself is quite another.”

“Well, look on the bright side,” Bobbi said. “At least one person has tried to kill him since you got the job. You might get to kick someone’s ass yet.”

“That would be nice.”

As River had predicted, Potts called toward the end of lunch to ask her to come in and help handle the Monaco fallout. 

“It sounds like it’s getting pretty bad,” River said, gathering up her things. “You’ll let me know if they find anything interesting in the blood sample?”

“We should have a report for you by tonight,” May said.

*****

May was as good as her word (or possibly May put the fear of God into the lab techs) because the report came through on River’s tablet not long after she dragged herself into her apartment that evening.

River scanned the results and immediately put a call through to Coulson.

“The lab results came back on Stark’s blood sample,” she said. “He’s sick.”

“Sick?” Coulson sounded honestly surprised. “Sick how?”

“I’m forwarding you the report now. His blood toxicity is so high, I’m honestly not sure how he’s functioning. It’s the palladium. Tell Fury that Iron Man’s power source is doing its damnedest to kill him.”

So much for super-human capabilities. 

“Are there any indications that he’s seeking treatment?” Coulson asked.

“Not that I’ve seen. I’ve been over his schedule a month back and a month out, and there’s nothing that suggests he’s seeing a doctor. Not surprising.”

“Why is that not surprising?”

“I don’t know what a doctor could do to help him that wouldn’t be incredibly invasive,” River said. “And Stark’s not going to expose that kind of weakness. I don’t think even Potts knows. I have a feeling she’d be a lot less irritated with him if she did.”

“Point,” Coulson said. “We’ll get our people on it. Good job, River. Keep up the good work.”

*****

For the next week or so, keeping up the good work involved spending a lot of time on the phone. The events of Monaco had put Tony Stark and his increasingly odd behavior front and center, and the media, Stark Industries affiliates, and government officials were jumping all over it. River followed Potts’ lead in diplomatically trying to dampen the fires and putting off some of the more persistent callers.

Pepper Potts was coming in for her fair share of negative attention, too: _Who was this glorified secretary and how exactly had she maneuvered herself into being named CEO of Stark Industries?_ If River were inclined to get emotionally invested in this assignment (which she wasn’t) she’d be pretty pissed off on the other woman’s behalf.

Likewise, if she were to find herself getting emotionally invested, she might have felt something like pity for Tony Stark. Now that River had a better idea of what was up with the man, the signs were unmistakable. He looked run down when he wasn’t acting manic, and the manic fits were coming fewer and further between. The physical pain seemed to come and go, judging by the lines in his face, and he was drinking his green herbal concoction by the gallon. 

Most days he holed up downstairs in his workshop with orders that he wasn’t to be disturbed while River and Potts rode herd on things together upstairs. River quickly learned to tune out the occasional explosion from below. Potts didn’t seem concerned by them, and River figured that JARVIS would alert them if Stark actually needed to be transported to a hospital. There was still a company to look after, and Tony Stark’s birthday celebration was coming up fast. 

Stark’s military contact, Lt. Col. Rhodes, came by regularly. If River had any hope of getting some useful intel out of him regarding Stark’s state of mind, she quickly wrote it off. Rhodes would pause just long enough to exchange some passing pleasantries with her and Potts, then head downstairs to hang out with Stark. That was the most they ever saw of him.

River reported the comings and goings and updated SHIELD on Stark’s physical and mental state diligently, always waiting until she was back in her apartment and away from JARVIS’s watchful (if metaphorical) eyes.

The day-in-day-out routine was hard in a way that River didn’t often find assignments, even long term relatively mundane ones. She remained on alert, not wanting to be caught off guard by another attack. Coulson called with the troubling news that Ivan Vanko had escaped from prison in Monaco just a step ahead of a SHIELD extradition. The L.A. base was on alert, just in case the man decided to follow Stark back to the States. They had taken the precaution of stationing a tactical team half a mile from Stark Mansion, commandeering a house that was currently up for sale.

So far, no threats had manifested.

River put in long days for Stark, kept an eye on her charge, wrote her reports, and worked in what training she could under the cover of being Rachel Singer. She was largely limited to jogging on the beach, swimming in the pool, and doing pushups in the privacy of her apartment. 

There was a bright spot in midst of the tedium. About a week after Monaco, a by-now-familiar sound lured River out of bed in the dead of night. She padded out into her living room and found the TARDIS parked in front of the picture window.

The Doctor had taken it into his head that Clint and River needed a date night given that they were working apart at present. Why? River had no idea, but she wasn’t going to quibble over it. The Doctor whisked River and Clint off to see the Singing Towers of Darillium. It was a lovely night.

Who would have guessed that the Time Lord was such an old romantic?

They had to get back to real life far sooner than they would have otherwise wished, but seeing Clint and getting away even for a short time gave River the second wind that she’d been unaware she needed.

Later, River would reflect that it was fortuitous timing given how Stark’s birthday celebration played out.


	3. Chapter 3

Stark did finally emerge from his workshop on the day of his birthday party, weaving through the throng of caterers, decorators, bartenders, and various other vendors and employees who had been setting up since lunchtime. River had had her hands full directing traffic, and covertly trying to make sure that no one looked shifty or was packing weapons. 

The last thing they needed was a repeat of Monaco. There was standard security on site, of course. Happy was responsible for that. And the tactical team from the L.A. base was primed to respond in case of another attack. Still, River didn’t want to take any chances.

Rachel Singer, ever the competent personal assistant, was on hand to make sure that her employer was properly outfitted for the occasion. Stark seemed less than giddy at the prospect of the party. The man was clearly sparring with the concept of his own mortality.

“Let me ask you something,” Stark said to her. “If this was the last birthday you were ever going to have, what would you do?”

Rachel Singer opened her mouth to give an appropriately coy response, but it was River Song who wound up answering.

“I’d do whatever I wanted to do,” she said, “with whoever I wanted to do it with.”

She’d spent her most recent birthday in London. She, Clint, and Coulson had been in town for a quick, covert meeting. Afterward, Coulson had kindly turned a blind eye while she and Clint had disappeared off into the city for twenty-four hours. They’d spent the day wandering with no plan or itinerary, and the night in a cozy hotel, not sleeping. It had been a good twenty-third birthday (or seventy-eighth, depending on how one counted).

“You know,” Stark said, “I have a really hard time getting a read on you.” He was frowning at her. Well, of course. Tony Stark was a man who was used to being able to figure things out. “Where are you from?”

“Legal,” River replied, and calmly stepped out to check on the party preparations again.

Stark’s morose mood didn’t last. River didn’t know if he had taken her words to heart, but if he had, then Stark’s version of _do whatever you want with whoever you want_ meant putting on the Iron Man suit and getting completely pissed.

The man had interesting priorities.

By 2330 hours the party had reached proportions of rowdiness such that River had rarely seen. She spent her time moving among the guests and pretending to have a good time. She laughed, chatted, kept an eye out for potential danger, and headed off a few minor, alcohol-fueled disasters. Stark flirted with her more and more the drunker he got, and River played along because that’s what Rachel Singer would do. She was relieved when Pepper Potts stepped in and tried to rein in Stark and start winding the party down. Unfortunately, her efforts just seemed to escalate Stark’s out-of-control behavior. 

The next thing River knew, Rhodes had helped himself to an Iron Man suit, shots were being fired, and somehow Potts was under the impression that this was all Rachel Singer’s fault.

“Don’t you _Miss Potts_ me!” she said as River tried in vain to herd the other woman toward an exit. “I’m onto you! Ever since you got here everything has just been--”

The rest of the accusation was cut off by a collapsing ceiling as Stark and Rhodes crashed through the building. 

“Fuck this job,” River muttered as she hurried out of the house with the panicked party-goers. She wasn’t even sure if that was her or Rachel Singer talking.

All that was certain was that Fury was getting a call, no matter what time it was back in New York.

*****

The birthday smack down between Stark and Lt. Col. Rhodes proved to be the last straw for Fury.

“I’ll be flying out within the hour,” he told River. “R&D has been working around the clock. They’ve developed a treatment for the palladium toxicity. It’s a stopgap, but it will buy Stark some time. I think it’s time for us to break cover on this assignment. Track down Stark and keep tabs on him until I get there, but don’t approach unless he’s about to do something stupider than usual.”

“Yes, sir,” River said.

She’d gone as far as the empty house down the road from Stark Mansion where the tactical team had set up shop. The team was already mobilizing with additional personnel from the L.A. base joining in the search for Stark. That gave River time to go back to her apartment to get cleaned up and changed. She’d never been so happy to get out of a slinky dress and pair of heels in her life. After a quick shower, River retrieved a duffle from the back of her closet and pulled out her SHIELD uniform.

Good-bye, Rachel Singer. It was time for Tony Stark to meet Agent River Song.

She felt more like herself with each piece she donned: close-fitting black pants, black boots, black shirt, black tactical jacket. River secured her hair, braiding it back tightly and pinning it up. She holstered her sidearm, tucked her knife into her boot, and set out for work.

She met up with May at Checkpoint Bravo. 

“So, it sounds like you’re having a hell of a night,” May said.

“I take it you’ve talked to Fury,” River replied.

“That and Stark’s exploding birthday party is all over the news.”

“Lovely.” River grimaced. “I don’t envy the public relations people who are going to get to deal with that tomorrow. Let’s find him before he causes even more trouble.”

By dawn they had Stark contained, even if the man himself wasn’t aware of it. Fury had also arrived.

“Agent Song,” Fury said. “Good to see you.”

“And you, sir,” River said.

“I’ll be taking point. I want you to do a sweep of the perimeter; the last thing I want is the damn media coming anywhere near this. Come inside and join us when you’re done.”

“Yes, sir.”

Fury nodded, looking down the block at the little yellow shop that was at the center of the SHIELD perimeter. “So, where exactly is our boy?”

River pointed to the roof. “He’s in the donut, sir.”

Fury rolled his good eye. “Of course he is.”

*****

The look on Tony Stark’s face when Fury introduced him to Agent River Song almost made all of the shit River had put up with on this assignment worth it.

Getting to shoot Stark in the neck with the temporary antidote SHIELD had developed made up for the rest. Stark cursed and protested and smacked her away, but within ten minutes he was starting to look marginally more healthy, even taking the hangover into account.

SHIELD had a convoy waiting to ferry them back to Malibu Point. River rode in the back of an SUV with Stark. He had shed the Iron Man suit and collapsed it down into its case, which rested on the seat between them. He still looked a little ragged, but by the time they got underway he was clearly feeling livelier.

“So. Agent River Song of SHIELD,” he said conversationally.

River had been maintaining an impassive and unruffled countenance, gaze firmly forward. She slid her eyes to the side at Stark’s not-quite-inquiry.

“Yes?” she said.

“Who exactly is River Song? I mean, is she real either?” 

River raised an eyebrow. Judging by his tone, Stark was less than thrilled that she and SHIELD had gotten one over on him.

When she didn’t verbally respond in a timely manner, Stark simply carried on without her.

“Well, okay. You’re a spy. Your parents were apparently giant hippies, just going by your name. You’re an incredibly good liar, and I say that as someone with a lot of experience. Do you even speak Latin? I have a bet with Pepper.”

 _“Auribus teneo lupum,”_ River said.

As far as she was concerned, Stark Industries could consider that the entirety of her exit interview.

“Right.” Stark shook his head and chuckled. “So, you wormed your way into the PA job to watch me for Fury. Why, exactly? What’s Fury’s game?”

“I suggest you take that up with Fury when we arrive.”

“And we’re all going back to my house why, exactly?”

“Fury’s orders.”

At that, Stark just snorted and was quiet for the remainder of the drive.

*****

“What _is_ Fury’s game plan here?” River asked Coulson.

She’d been pleasantly surprised to see Coulson waiting on the doorstep of Stark Mansion when they’d pulled up. A team of agents was securing the house and attempting to clear some of the disaster zone left from the birthday festivities.

Coulson and River watched Stark and Fury from the living room. The two men were sitting on the patio, looking out over the ocean. A large SHIELD-issued archival crate was sitting between their chairs.

“To save Stark’s life. Or rather, to give him a hand in saving himself,” Coulson replied. When River cast a quizzical look at him, he continued. “You know that Stark’s father was one of the Founders. He entrusted a large number of items to the SHIELD archives, including, according to Fury, research on a power source that could potentially replace the one that’s poisoning Stark. We just need to get him working on it.”

“At least he has some good incentive,” River said. Life and death were always powerful motivators. It should keep even Stark focused.

“Fury’s ordered me to stay here and monitor Stark,” Coulson added. “He wants you at the Stark Industries office to keep an eye on Potts. We’re still no closer to finding Vanko. If he wants to get to Stark, a good way to do it would be to go after her.”

More information has surfaced on Vanko, and it suggested that rather than being a mercenary, the man had a personal beef with Stark.

“Right.” River winced. “That’s going to be difficult.”

“Why is that?”

“I’m fairly certain that Pepper Potts hates my guts.”

Coulson just nodded when River gave him the overview, and when she was finished he pulled out his cell phone.

“What are you doing?” River asked.

“Giving her a call,” Coulson said. “Maybe I can smooth things out a little or find an in for you.”

River folded her arms, eyebrows climbing. “Why do you have Pepper Potts’ number?”

Coulson just shrugged as he dialed. “We’re kind of friends,” he said. “Ever since Stark went public as Iron Man, we check in periodically; call, email, grab coffee if we’re both in New York, that sort of thing. I meant to call her anyway to congratulate her on the CEO position, but hadn’t gotten around to it. Pepper?” Coulson made himself comfortable on a stool at the breakfast bar. “It’s Phil Coulson. How are things going?”

River settled in to watch the one-sided show. Just when she thought she knew everything there was to know about Phil Coulson, the man managed to surprise her.

Coulson must have caught Potts at a point where she needed to either vent or explode because the conversation was a long one. It did provide some useful information.

“Okay, yeah, she doesn’t like Rachel,” Coulson said once the call ended. 

“That much I knew,” River said. “Strategy?”

Coulson fiddled idly with his phone. River could tell he was thinking.

“Part of the problem is that she’s feeling territorial, not just over Stark, but over the PA position. She held it for a long time and it’s been hard for her to let go of it. Plus she’s feeling pretty overwhelmed. That’s exacerbating everything. She feels like she’s in over her head with the new job and all of the bad publicity, and she has to head out to New York tomorrow because Hammer has some sort of surprise exhibition planned for the Stark Expo.” 

“Perhaps I should go in bearing alcohol.”

“I say go into the office and offer to help her. Tell her that Stark wants some time alone and that he sent you to assist her personally. I think she’ll take you up on it.”

“You are a mildly terrifying man,” River said. “But I’ll give it a try. And if it works and I go to New York with her, I think there’s another angle we can play, just to drive things home.”

*****

Coulson’s strategy concerning Potts was effective. River added a layer or two of contrite humility for good measure, apologizing for the fiasco that the birthday party had turned into. It turned out to be a good card to play. Potts didn’t look thrilled about accepting Rachel Singer’s help, but it was clear she was swamped.

“I can use the assistance. You’re free to go to New York with me? Hammer has all but called out Stark Industries at its own Expo. I have no idea what he has planned, but I need to be there for it.”

“I’m free,” River confirmed with a nod.

Making amends was Step One to getting on Potts’ good side. Step Two came into play when she and Potts landed in New York the following night. River had decided to call in some back-up. 

They flew commercial, but with Stark Industries footing the bill it was still a comfortable flight at least from a physical standpoint. Potts was still being fairly cool toward River, and was not terribly talkative beyond discussing the logistics of their itinerary for the next few days. 

They landed at LaGuardia at a little past seven-thirty. River was collecting her bag from the baggage claim when she felt a familiar tingle on the back of her neck. She smiled.

As soon as she turned, Clint wrapped his arms around her waist, picked her up, and spun her around and around. River was laughing by the time he set her back on the floor and kissed her like they were in the final shot of an old black-and-white movie. When they’d worked this out over the phone yesterday, River’s one directive had been _Be demonstrative._ Clint seemed to have taken it to heart. 

There were a few whistles and some scattered applause from onlookers. River was only half acting when she hid her face against Clint’s chest to hide both her blush and her ear-to-ear grin.

She did chance a peek over at Pepper Potts. This was either going to be a slam dunk, or Potts was going to be put off by Rachel Singer’s boyfriend turning up like this and making a scene. Fortunately, it looked like River had bet on the right horse. Potts was looking at her and Clint like they might in fact be the most adorable thing she had ever seen.

Mission accomplished. Rachel Singer was officially not a threat, professionally or personally.

“How was that?” Clint whispered in her ear.

River squeezed him a bit tighter. “Spot on,” she whispered back.

The strategy River and Clint had devised was a very simple one. Rachel Singer’s boyfriend, Brian Hendricks, a marketing consultant with a New York firm, would turn up at the airport to meet and surprise her. Clint had dressed for the part and looked somewhat incongruous in slacks and a buttoned-down shirt (sized a bit large to disguise the fact that he was more muscular than the average office worker).

The suitcase he had with him hadn’t been part of the strategy, though. River drew back a little with a frown, but before she could ask, Potts had wandered over and introductions needed to be made.

“I’m really sorry to just show up like this,” Clint said, smiling in that way that made him look especially endearing. “It’s just that I haven’t seen Rachel for about six weeks, and she called to tell me that she was coming into town, but now my boss is sending me out to handle a meeting in New Mexico and I knew this was the only chance I’d get to see her so. . .”

Potts just smiled and waved off the apology. River knew that Rachel Singer was officially in the other woman’s good graces when she added, “We’re not in any hurry; we’re just heading out to Stark Tower for the night. Why don’t you two go get coffee or something? Catch up until it’s time for Brian’s flight to leave. I can keep myself occupied for a while.”

River held her questions until she and Clint had snagged a corner table in the airport coffee shop.

“What’s going on in New Mexico?” she asked.

“It’s a Code Pandora, at least they think it is,” Clint said, stirring his coffee. “Fury called me in on it a couple of hours ago. Phil’s already on his way out there.”

“Code Pandora?” River said in surprise. That was SHIELD’s designation for an incident of possible extraterrestrial origin. “Any idea what it is?”

“No clue,” Clint replied. “Satellites picked up some sort of atmospheric disruption and it looks like something may have landed in the desert out there.”

“We have an 0-8-4 on our hands?” 

Clint nodded. “I looks like. They’re trying to narrow down the site, now. I told Fury I had to take care of this before I headed out. He’s given me until nine o’clock. The quinjet’s parked in one of the private hangers here.”

“Be careful out there,” River said. With a Code Pandora, anything could happen. “And if You-Know-Who happens to put in an appearance, give him my best.”


	4. Chapter 4

River found that working with Pepper Potts was actually quite pleasant when the underlying tensions were fully diffused.

There were a number of matters in New York besides the Stark Expo that required Potts’ attention. River and Potts worked out of the penthouse of Stark Tower the next day until it was time to head out to Queens that evening to see what Justin Hammer had in store for his audience.

“I’m seeing a lot of military personnel,” River said as she and Potts made their way into the Expo arena. There were probably as many attendees in uniform as there were in civvies.

“I know.” Potts looked mildly troubled. “And they look like they’re expecting to see a show. I just wish I knew what kind.”

If the brass had turned up to see a show, they weren’t disappointed. They got one, and then some.

River started to get a bad feeling when the Hammer Drones were unveiled. She went on internal high alert when Rhodes was trotted out onto the stage wearing the Iron Man suit that he’d taken off with the night of Stark’s birthday party.

She knew that they had reached the point of no return when Tony Stark landed on the Expo stage. There was a point in every mission when things came to an irrevocable head from which de-escalation was no longer a viable option. Call it instinct born of long experience, but River knew this was it.

_Here we go._

*****

It violated every instinct River had to run away from an unfolding battle, but according to the short confession that she’d twisted out of Justin Hammer, that was exactly what she needed to do. The drones were out of control (or, more to the point, under Ivan Vanko’s) as was Rhodes’ suit. The means to stop them was at Hammer Technologies.

So that was where she had to go.

River could see explosions in the rearview mirror as she sped out of the park. She’d put out an emergency call—SHIELD was on its way. Potts had already been calling emergency services when River had left and working with security to get civilians to safety. Stark was apparently trying to blast his way through as many of the drones as possible.

She just hoped that there would be something left of the Expo park by the time she came back.

*****

When dawn came it was a bit surreal to see that Queens was still standing. Gratifying, to be sure, but surreal.

In fact, most of the destruction had been contained to the Expo park. The arena looked distinctly worse for wear, but it was still structurally stable enough for SHEILD to move in and set up a remote command unit there. There were smoking piles of rubble everywhere, and River had to navigate around some sizable craters in the parking lot.

Still, if it hadn’t been for Iron Man, it would have been much, much worse. River didn’t mind admitting that.

“Well, Iron Man had some help,” Fury pointed out to her. “Good work hacking Vanko’s software.”

“Thank you, sir,” River said. “I take it Stark is fully operational again?”

Fury nodded. “He cracked the research his father left. Palladium is officially an outdated power source. Stark should be giving me indigestion for many years to come. Speaking of which,” Fury angled his head so that he could train his good eye on River, “do you have your report ready?”

River wordlessly handed over the file. She wasn’t sure if its contents would meet with Fury’s expectations or approval. She watched the Director scan the first page and raise his eyebrow at the summation, but he closed the file without comment. 

“I hear you’ve arranged to hitch a ride to New Mexico,” he said instead.

River nodded.

“Cohen and Woodville are flying some equipment out to the mobile base in a few hours,” River said. “They said they could squeeze in a passenger.”

“You know, Agent Song,” Fury said, “after saving a borough of the city from complete destruction, most agents would want to take some R&R time.”

“I know,” River said. “But after this assignment, sitting in the middle of the desert sounds pretty relaxing to me.”

Fury didn’t argue.

*****

River had one more stop to make before she went back to base to pack and catch her flight. She found Pepper Potts on a bench in a corner of the arena’s foyer, tiredly typing away on her laptop. She set it aside when she saw River approaching though, eying the other woman a little coolly.

River knew that Pepper was not a woman who appreciated being manipulated, which was something she could respect. This visit wasn’t about offering more apologies, though. You didn’t last long in the spy game worrying too much about marks’ feelings. Still, she thought she owed Pepper the courtesy of a face-to-face meeting.

“Ms. Potts.”

“Agent Song.” It was a statement, not a greeting. Pepper’s mouth quirked ever so slightly. “Tony had time to fill me in on a few things before he got hauled away for his debriefing. So, you work for SHIELD. You don’t know Agent Coulson by any chance, do you?”

“We’re colleagues,” River said.

She’d leave it at that. She’d rather not cost Coulson a friend.

Pepper nodded. “And your boyfriend? Brian? Another agent, I take it?”

“He is,” River replied. “Although, he actually _is_ my boyfriend. That part was real.”

“Well, that make me feel slightly less played, I suppose.” Pepper actually smiled for real this time. “Look, I’m not going to claim that I’m okay with the spying, but I’m glad that SHIELD was able to help Tony. The man drives me crazy, but I’m not sure what I’d ever do without him. So, thank you.”

“We’re glad we could help.” That was the SHIELD party line of course, but River meant it. “I’m sorry to leave you in the lurch with the PA position. Hopefully the next one will come with fewer complications.”

“Here’s hoping.” Pepper looked amused, then thoughtful. “Tony told me about why you were evaluating him,” she said. “He told me about Fury’s idea. The Avengers Initiative.”

“He shouldn’t have done that. It’s classified,” River said.

Not that she could work up any real surprise that Tony had spilled those beans to Pepper.

“Do you honestly think that Tony can do something like that?” Pepper asked. “Do you think he’s capable of being some sort of superhero?”

River’s report to Fury on that very subject was still fresh in her mind. Given that the events of Queens seemed to have finally drawn Stark and Pepper together, River felt that she deserved an honest answer. 

“I think that he could be one day,” she said. “When he’s at his best, I think he could be, yes.”

Iron Man brought out the best in Tony Stark, but in River’s opinion, Stark himself needed more time. He wasn’t ready for that level of responsibility yet. She’d said as much in her report.

But maybe one day he would.

“So, what’s next for you after this?” Pepper asked.

“Nothing that I’m at liberty to talk about, I’m afraid.” River shrugged apologetically. “What about you? Are you going to stay on as CEO?”

In the immediate aftermath of the attack, River had heard some comm chatter to the contrary. _I quit! I’m resigning! My body literally cannot handle the stress._ But that had been last night. Things always looked different by the light of day.

“Probably.” Pepper did look like a lot of self-doubt had slid off of her shoulders in the last twenty-four hours. “If not me, then who, right?”

Sometimes that was all the resolve a person needed.

“You know,” River said, “Stark is damn lucky to have you. Don’t ever let him forget it.”

“Trust me, I don’t intend to.”

River said good-bye to Pepper and went to catch a ride out to SHIELD headquarters so that she could get ready to head to New Mexico.

The next adventure awaited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up, strange things are happening in New Mexico, and Clint, Coulson, and River are right in the thick of things! Stay tuned.


End file.
